


A Story

by victorygal18



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Irondad, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorygal18/pseuds/victorygal18
Summary: Morgan Stark finds a picture in her parent's kitchen. She wants to know about the boy in it. Tony decides to tell her a story about the kid who meant so much to him.Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame





	A Story

The nightmare was always the same. 

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony turned around, his heart sinking to the ground, for what seemed like the millionth time. 

“I don’t feel so good.” Peter Parker said in a quiet, apprehensive voice. 

“You’re alright.” Tony said stupidly. He wanted to say something better, more helpful, but he couldn’t 

He just couldn’t. 

The kid was approaching faster now, stuttering as he spoke.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening. I-” He fell into Tony, wrapping his arms around him. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, please, Mr. Stark-”

“Dad?”

Confused, Tony tried to look at Peter, but he had disappeared. Although, not as he normally did. Everything had disappeared.

“Dad!?” the voice said again.

Tony awoke with a start. Panting, he sat up quickly, suddenly aware that his daughter, Morgan was sitting next to him. He attempted to get his breathing back to normal, as Morgan climbed on to his lap, her eyes wide with worry and curiosity. Pepper, as was her routine, must have gone out for her morning run around the lake. 

“Dad? Is everything ok?” Tony was struggling to focus on her words, his heart still pounding rapidly. “Did you have a scary dream again?” 

“Yeah...just a little one…” Tony said trailing off. Both Tony and Morgan were quiet for a few seconds. Coming to his senses, Tony said, “I dreamt you ate all of the cheeseburgers.” 

Morgan scrunched up her little face, looking skeptical. “No, you didn’t,” She said. But she laughed a little bit, and Tony smiled. 

“It’s true!” Tony said, as he picked his daughter up and walked her out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. “I was so hungry after a long day in the workshop, and I was so excited to eat one, and I came back, and they were all gone!” Tony sat Morgan down at the breakfast table. “Anyways, what do you want for breakfast?” Morgan started to speak, and Tony cut her off, “Don’t say cheeseburgers,” he said. Morgan giggled. The shaking in Tony’s hands had almost stopped.

“How about chocolate chip waffles?” Morgan suggested.

“Ok,” Tony said. “But only if you pull your weight and help out.” Morgan excitedly hopped over to the kitchen, as Tony rummaged around in the pantry for ingredients. Using an open drawer as a boost, she climbed on to the counter. Tony emerged from the pantry holding a box of Bisquick and a bag of chocolate chips. “Hey,” he said warningly. “What did I say about going on the counter?”

“You said I have to help, and I’m too short to help from down there.” Morgan said sassily. 

Tony rolled his eyes, but relented. This kid could get away with murder. “Start mixing.” 

Tony always enjoyed cooking with his daughter. He had never really spent much time cooking in the past, always relying on restaurant food, or personal chefs. But ever since the move to the lake, it was small, human moments like this that made him feel most glad to be alive. God, he was lucky to be alive. 

But, still. The kid never left his dreams. 

A few minutes of mixing later, Morgan sat by the waffle iron, staring at the timer, extremely focused. 

“What do you want to drink?” Tony asked, looking in the fridge. “Milk, juice…?”

“Milk!” Morgan exclaimed. “I’ll get the cups!” Morgan climbed across the counter, over the sink, to the cabinet with the cups. Her mission successful, she started to climb back to the waffle iron to check on the time, but a picture on the shelf by the sink caught her eye. She grabbed it. It was a picture of her dad and some boy doing bunny ears on each other. She laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asked.

“Bunny ears.” Morgan said, still giggling.

“What?” Tony said amused, as he turned around, milk carton in hand. He saw Morgan holding the picture, and his heart did a funny little skip.

He had put that picture there not as a sentimental memory, but a reminder of his failure. A reminder of how much he had lost. A reminder of how much he could still lose. 

“Who is that boy?” Morgan asked. “He looks like he is funny!”  
The waffle timer went off and Tony rushed to the machine, grabbing the waffles, trying to keep his mind focused on something, anything else. “He was funny.” Tony said exasperated.

“Can I meet him?” Morgan asked innocently.

The simple question sent Tony over the edge. “No, you can’t meet him!” Tony yelled. 

“Why not?” Morgan asked defiantly. 

“Because he’s gone!” Tony answered, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from filling with tears. He placed his arms on the kitchen counter, and put his head down. He had never lost control like this in front of Morgan before. Ashamed, he took a deep breath, and grabbed the plate with the waffles, the milk, and set it down on the kitchen table. 

“Come on, Morgan.” He said. “It’s ok. I’m ok.”

Morgan walked quietly over to the kitchen table, the picture still in her hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Morgan eating her waffles, and Tony drinking a cup of coffee.

“What was he like?” Morgan asked apprehensively. 

Tony looked at her for a few moments. His beautiful and sweet daughter. He had an urge to break down again but he was able to keep his composure. He had to tell her. He had to talk about him. 

“He was-” Tony looked up towards the ceiling. “He was a wonderful kid, just like you. He was a genius. The smartest kid that I have ever met. God, he was funny too. He could make me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. He got into trouble too though. He loved to climb things too, just like you. Sometimes he got himself into danger, and I worried so much about him. He was a lot like me. But, he was so much better. He cared about people so much, so deeply in his heart. He always wanted to do the right thing. All he wanted was to make the world a better place.”

Tony, yet again, had choked up. Morgan pondered his words for a few seconds, and then asked. “Where did he go?”

Tony hesitated. “I don’t know.” he said finally. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Will he ever come back?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What was he name?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. But people called him another name too. Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man? Why would they call him that?”

Tony hesitated. Was he ready to share everything with Morgan? Was she ready to know?

“I’ll show you. Come on.” Tony took Morgan’s hand and led her to the workshop. There he showed her models of the Spider-Man suits he had created, videos of Peter as Spider-Man, and pictures of him and Peter in their smaller, more human moments. He told her stories of the great things that Peter had done in his short life. He told her about how brave he was. It was hard, but it was worth it. 

Afterwards, they walked out of the workshop, onto the front porch and the blazing sunlight.

“I wish I could have met him,” Morgan said.

“I wish you could have met him too. You’re a lot like him, you know?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t have any spider powers.”

“But you’re like him in the more important ways. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re brave.Those are the most important things anyway.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Morgan ran off the porch and into the yard. She started to try to climb the closest tree.

Tony Stark smiled. He felt a strange sense of peace.

 

 

Peter Parker sat on the stairs of Tony Stark’s front porch. The funeral was over. Everything was over, really. For not the first time in his life, Peter felt completely lost, unsure of what to do.

He hadn’t talked much for most of the day. He tried to avoid people as best as he could. He wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened yet. 

He heard the door open, and quickly got up and started to walk away, hoping to avoid a conversation.

“Spider-Man?” a small voice said. 

Peter turned around to see Morgan Stark standing on the front porch, clutching a piece of paper in her hand. 

“Hi.” Peter said awkwardly.

“Hi.” Morgan said back. Morgan sat down on the stairs that Peter had just abandoned. “Do you want to come sit by me?”

“Ok.” Peter said, and took a seat next to her.

“You don’t talk to much. My dad said you could never stop talking.” 

Peter wrinkled his forehead, somewhat taken aback. “What?”

“I made this for you.” Morgan said, thrusting the folded piece of paper into his hand.

Peter unfolded it. Inside was a drawing of what he assumed to be him and Morgan, both wearing Spider-Man suits.

“Wow! This is great!” Peter said, his heart lightening a bit. “I didn’t know you knew about Spider-Man!”

“Of course I do!” Morgan exclaimed. “My dad told me all about you!”

“He-he did?”

“Well, he told me about all of the awesome things that you did, and he told me about your spider powers. He said I’m just like you even though I don’t have spider powers. He said I’m nice, and smart, and brave, and those are the most important things.”

“Wow.” Peter said, standing up, moved. Finally, blinking back tears, he said. “You’re a lot like your dad, too, you know.”

“I know. Can you show me how you climb a tree like a spider?”

Peter grinned. He climbed up tree nearest to the porch, Morgan on his back. They sat on a branch, overlooking the house and the lake. They both felt a strange sense of peace.


End file.
